Harry Potter and the Memories of Future: Philosopher's Stone
by MischiefAag
Summary: Seventy-nine-year-old Harry Potter sends his memories and certain abilities to help his younger self to make a better future for himself and his friends. Mix in his Eidetic memory, all hell breaks loose. Independent!Harry, Powerful!Harry, Rich!Harry, Intelligent!Harry
1. Polouge

**_Disclaimer : The story I tell here about Harry is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of J.K. Rowling's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line._**

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_

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The Atrium in the Ministry was deserted, seeing as it was after midnight. Walking towards the lifts was a tall hooded figure in Unspeakable robes. It wasn't unusual, as the Unspeakables were the only ones who worked after midnight. What was unusual was that this particular figure was going to the Department of Mysteries, not for research, but for something else. Something he had been working on for, for a very long time now.

The hooded figure walked into the Room of Doors, in the DoM, knowing full well how it worked, seeing as he was the Head of the Department. He walked straight to a door to his left, the Time Room. The Time Room had changed since the time when it was trashed by a bunch of fifth years of Hogwarts, during nineteen ninety-five.

Now sixty-five years later, after working through numerous books, travelling all over the universe and after years and age of research later, Harry Potter had achieved what he wanted.

Well, what he had wanted was to get back in time to his younger body with his magic and knowledge, to change the past. A past that still plagued him today, of death and destruction. He knew his magic couldn't travel back in time, he had researched for years without any results for that. But what he did find was that he could send the memories and knowledge of his current life back to his past self.

The seventy-nine-year-old Harry Potter took the air towards the big clock that showed the life cycle of a chick. He tapped his wand against the glass of the clock twice, making it melt for a sleek dark wooden door to appear in its place.

Harry tapped his wand once again on the doorknob, which clicked open. He pressed it open and walked into the dreary room. With a flick of his wrist, the lights came to life, with another flick the door shut behind him.

The chamber was dimly lit and very lowly, that could support only one person barely enough to go about. The only significant thing in the chamber was a wide, shallow bowl made of some kind of stone inlaid with precious stones and engraved all around its rim were complicated runes. It was called a Pensieve.

What was different about this Pensieve was that more or less of the runes were etched by Harry himself after all the research. These runes allowed the user to transfer memories and certain abilities of themselves to their younger self. Harry had enchanted it in such a way that it only worked to his magical signature, for anyone else it was just a normal Pensieve.

Harry took the air towards it, but then wavered, not wanting his younger self to endure what he suffered. But then thinking back to what had taken place after he'd vanquished Voldemort, he nerved himself to manage what he came for.

On the day he defeated the self-styled Lord Voldemort, he lost most of his friends and those he'd considered family. Ron had died from Nagini's deadly bite before she was killed by Neville. Molly had died taking down Bellatrix who had already killed Ginny, Hermione and Luna. Arthur had died at the hands of Voldemort, himself and a lot of others had been killed mercilessly by the Death Eaters who were later, either captured or killed. Those who had been captured were sentenced to the Veil.

Harry forced himself out of his musings and started to chant in a different language, making certain runes glow a sharp golden color. As the chanting grew more regular and deep, more of the runes began to glow, sharper than earlier. As he ceased his chant, Harry puts his wand to his temple and pulled out strands of thick silvery substance and placed it in the modified Pensieve. He put his wand against his temple again, but this time instead of the silvery substance, he pulled out a thick golden strand. This was a copy of most of his abilities. These abilities, mostly dormant when he was younger had started to grow more active once he had reached his majority, after defeating Voldemort, many of which weren't useful after the war. The aim of sending these abilities to his younger self was to wake them when most required.

After the last strand was placed into the Pensieve, there was a flash of red, gold and green light, and then nothing.

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 ** _Pub: 30 March 2018_**

 ** _Read, review and favorite!_**


	2. Chapter 1: Letter from Someone

_**Disclaimer : The story I tell here about Harry is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of J.K. Rowling's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.**_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 **A Letter from Someone**

* * *

 _ **T**_ he cupboard under the stairs of number four, Privet Drive could be described as a bedroom of sorts, even though it barely had room to fit anyone, let alone a ten year old boy. The mentioned ten year old was small and skinny for his age, had a thin face, knobbly knees, messy black hair and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape, broken by all the times that Dudley and his friends had used him as a punching bag. The only thing Harry liked about his whole appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead shaped like a bolt of lightning.

Currently, Harry Potter was dreaming vividly, about a person with black messy hair, with lots of grays in them and round glasses like his, then older man was pulling out something from his temple and then there was a violent flash of red, gold and green light. He awoke with a start, gasping as his scar had hurt as if it was on fire. Harry snapped one hand to his scar, eyes crinkled in annoyance, the other hand on his lip to block himself from calling out and then a bunch of blurred images of people, places and other things he couldn't recognize rushed forth into his brain in a vivid array of colors and sounds. And then all of a sudden it was gone, the pain and the flashes of images, gone and Harry promptly fainted onto his old mattress.

He had constantly had dreams about weird lights, flying motorcycles and people dressed in odd clothes, but this was a first.

Once morning approached, Harry woke earlier than his relatives, tried to open the door and was glad that it had swung open. So that had put an end to his punishment for the vanishing glass at the zoo. He walked to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast for the residents of number four.

As he finished with the last of the bacon, his Aunt Petunia walked into the kitchen, with Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley behind her. They settled down in front of the plates Harry had laid out for them. Aunt Petunia laid out breakfast for everyone, giving Harry a slice of burnt toast and a strip of bacon, with a glass of water. Harry slowly nibbled through his toast thinking about the vivid dream he'd had. They heard a click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. Harry quickly devoured his toast and bacon and chugged his water down in one go.

"Go fetch the mail, boy." said Uncle Vernon without looking up from his paper.

Harry quickly walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, a brown envelope that looked like a bill of some kind and – a letter addressed to Harry.

Harry picked it up and stared at it for a while, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever in his whole life had ever written to him. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

 _Mr. H. Potter_

 _The Cupboard under the Stairs_

 _4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging_

 _Surry_

The was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink.

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen, which promptly, made Harry drop the letter in surprise.

"Coming, Uncle Vernon." Harry shouted back, crouching down to pick his letter up. But as he bent down to pick the letter, he saw a flash of images that showed him taking his letter back to the kitchen and having it taken away by his Aunt and Uncle. He gave out a small gasp of surprise and decided to keep the letter to himself, and so tucked the letter into the waist of his pants and pulled his shirt over it, walking back to the kitchen to give the postcard and envelope to his uncle.

After he had finished his chores for the day, Harry locked himself into his cupboard, and pulled out his now slightly crumpled letter. He smoothed it out with his trembling hands, reread the address again and turned the envelope over. He saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, a serpent, an eagle and a badger, surrounding a large letter H.

He cracked the wax seal carefully with his fingernails, he plucked out another yellow parchment and read:

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDARY_

 _Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall,_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

Harry pulled out another piece of parchment and read:

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _First-year students will require:_

 ** _Uniform_**

 _Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)_

 _One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear_

 _One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

 _One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)_

 _Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times._

 ** _Books_**

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ _by Miranda Goshawk_

 _A History of Magic_ _by Bathilda Bagshot_

 _Magical Theory_ _by Adalbert Waffling_

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ _by Emeric Switch_

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ _by Phyllida Spore_

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ _by Arsenius Jigger_

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ _by Newt Scamander_

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ _by Quentin Trimble_

 ** _Other Equipment_**

 _1 Wand_

 _1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

 _1 set of glass or crystal phials_

 _1 telescope_

 _1 set of brass scales_

 _Students may also bring an Owl, a Cat or a Toad._

 ** _PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_ _._**

Harry gaped at the letter and its contents, even though barely any of it made sense to him, he knew that the letter wasn't a fraud. For one Dudley didn't have the brains to pull off such a prank and for another, as he had read through the letter and its contents a lot of things made sense to him. He had an eidetic memory and he remembered everything that had happened since he was one. He could recall the aspects of his parents, their voices and even their warmth, and some other people too; Pa'foo and Moo'ey most common among them. Not only that, he even saw a flash of himself reading the very same letter, standing next to a giant of a man and another flash of an image of a handsome boy reading the same letter, with a tall man with long black hair and a long beard, standing next to him. He saw another flash of an image of a pub, _The Leaky Cauldron_ , somewhere in London.

He laid down on his bed, having had dinner before, clutching the letter to his chest. All the flashes of images that were going through his head was giving him a mighty headache. He thought about what he would do with the letter, he wanted to confirm his suspicions, but asking the Dursleys' was out of the question because, even before he could get a word out they would lock him in the cupboard till school opened. He knew the only thing to do was go there himself and find out the truth. Then suddenly, he remembered that there was a line in the letter written: _'We await your owl…'_. He believed that they had probably meant they expected his answer. So picking himself up, he pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil and scribbled out a letter:

 _Dear Deputy Headmistress,_

 _I am writing to you in regards of the letter I received today, stating that I have been asked to your school. I accept the invitation to your prestigious institution._

 _Thanking you,_

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Harry Potter_

He then folded the piece of paper and then pulled out another sheet to make an envelope out of it, writing:

 _To the Deputy Headmistress_

 _M. McGonagall_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

He had a collection of old stamps that he had found here and there, he picked one of those from the shelf and licked it and place it on his self-made envelope.

He decided that he would post it in the morning in the post box near the library and then he would go to London, with what little money he had earned from working for his neighbors, without his relatives' knowledge.

He also wrote a brief letter explaining the letter and its contents and where he had gone to his relatives to be stuck on the door of the cupboard in the morning before he left. He carefully packed his letter and the few possessions that he had and the money into his school bag. He departed to bed with a gratified grin, thinking about his day tomorrow.

* * *

 ** _Pub: 30 March 2018_**

 ** _12:54 P.M_**

 ** _A lot of what you recognize is extracted from the original books, by JKR._**

 ** _Forgive me if you don't find it good. I am trying my best to write HARRY POTTER in fanfiction form and its not easy to do so._**

 _ **If you like it please review and favorite!**_


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